


Supernovae

by Aconitumi



Category: Euostraths Descent
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aconitumi/pseuds/Aconitumi
Summary: Brightly burning high mass stars are but youths before they taste the violent delight of a supernova. It is through this redemptive death that black holes and neutron stars are born. However, seldom do black holes and neutron stars share an orbit of waltz within the fabrics of spacetime. Once they do though, their bond is unbreakable.
Relationships: Iketasos/Nyleein





	1. Infinity continued

**Author's Note:**

> This is a nyke centric fic so everything is written to cater to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyleein belongs to Danny and Iketasos belongs to me! All other names are PCs or NPCs

The midday golden light fractured through the dirt and moss mound-holes, appearing like background-halos against everyone’s stick-strewn hair. Out of caution, mice folk had captured a fateful motley crew who trespassed into their clandestine village and caged them within the ground for further interrogation. Therefore, here everyone was, dotting the dirt like colorful childish rocks in an open cavern as one of the mice, Leafa, went to go discuss what was to be done with the _trespassers_ with other mice. Dust danced in the air in a shoddy attempt to keep the cramped captives entertained (though their attention was entirely on each other, save for one lone wolf) during their wait.

Although locks of white were many within that small, dusty carven, _his_ was the only one that gathered an almost incandescent quality to it. 

Iketasos need not know the syllables that made up his name or life-story to know that the muddied man before them was akin to a geode-- a seemingly harmless and worthless rock whose precious core was a myriad of rich, glimmering crystals. It is but a facade to keep the lethal and greedy away, they know. Fortunately (or not), for he who is nameless, the arcane phantom is without sources of magics and connections; therefore, they knew that they lacked any forceful pressure to crack his exterior.

So, as they surveyed over splatters of ground-water and pineneedle pins on his form, Iketasos flirted with the concept of slipping into their most comfortable role once more: a charmer. Words are mightier than the cleave of a blade after all. Whisper the right sounds to find the necessary chisel and hammer required to pry open that alluring, foreign entity apart. 

A huff of amusement swirled around the vast cosmos of their mind as they scoped out the rest of him. Drab-colored (but not drab- _quality_ ) layers of clothing with no visible rippage at the seams anywhere nor cloth patches. The attire was nothing new to the traveler phantom -- they’ve seen such a style before with Chie in another life but here in this world, Iketasos witnessed a divine (a _Euostrath)_ don the same thing. While their time here has been short, no other entity has equipped such garb and without much knowable reason, the Mesmer found themself mesmerized. Well hidden his treasures must be then, with that suspiciously holy attire and mysterious charm. Iketasos has always adored the thrill of hunting for sparkling desirable things but first, this _thing_ should have a name they can put their fangs onto. 

“What’s your name, white hair?”

“Nyleein.”

A languid name that rolled off of his tongue with a quirk of the lips that were barely seen underneath all of that matted wild hair. The immaterial phantom hummed delight at Nyleein’s offer of title; they envisioned themself murmuring that name often like a curious devotee whispering prayers for fortune, to test whether there truly is a favorous god listening (the answer is always yes for _them_ specifically).

Names -- they’re a powerful thing in how they enforce social hierarchies and vulnerabilities with nothing but sounds. This name, Nyleein, surely is worth something immeasurable especially if he comes to be anything like _Nyctis_. Nyctis twas but another white haired entity whose inner core revealed to be that of divinely hungry; he sought to claim all that was holy to himself and somehow, Nyctis found sinister delight in Iketasos’ company which would lead to their untimely death. Iketasos will not allow this second chance (or so they think) to secure their safety and a powerful ally slip lest they desire to find themself in the limbo of death again. 

“Nyleein? It is entirely my pleasure to meet you. You can refer to me as Iketasos,” they cooed. “Your attire looks lovely in style, where did you acquire it?” 

With the minor turn of his head away from them, in a voice colored with amusement, Nyleein responded, “I got my clothes from my personal tailor up north.” 

Personal tailor? He is not of poverty then but that was something Iketasos had already suspected. “You look handsome.” No response came from the foreign man. Iketasos had expected as much.

“So how did you, Nyleein, get captured?” 

“Ah. I was wandering around and got caught, like the rest of you,” Nyleein laughed softly as he stretched his shoulder blades (or as best as he could for he was as bound by rope as the rest). 

“I guess these mice are much more strong than they appear if they’re able to capture us _and_ you but fret not, you have us now…unless Leafa finds that it’s suitable for us to leave soon.” The uncloaked apparition made a sound akin to the clicking of the tongue. A groupmate, Jabril, then made a comment about how only, “cool people get tied up.” Laughter echoed across the rocky walls. 

He who was strange deepened his grin in response. Iketasos found that they liked his smile -- there was something simply interesting within it. “That or people with carnal desires. Anyway, have you been here long?” 

“No, only for a bit.” 

“May we both leave in the near future then.” 

The rest of the idle time was made to try to talk to Nyleein -- but mostly from Iketasos’ party mates -- and predictably, he is someone who only speaks when spoken to. Even then, his words were rarely specific or flourished with details therefore the phantom didn’t learn much else about the man. However, there was one good thing to come of the conversations: the group were eventually free to go. They had proven to only have altruistic intent, hence why one of the village’s mice was returned with the group’s protection. Therefore, the micelfolk had agreed that it would be best if no blood was shed and peace was maintained. 

The ensemble’s vine rope was loosened and all was pushed to depart from the open caverns. Now that each captivee could raise their spine to their fullest height, the now-disguised phantom could see the true extent of Nyleein’s treasures. Much taller he is than them (or everyone else) but yet, Nyleein kept that spine of his to a deceitful curve such that the white curtain around those worn features were kept secluded more. Even so, Iketasos knows of conventional beauty when they allow their sight to feast. A stone-cold nose with minimal gentle roundness to it; a clean jaw that doesn’t speak of poverty; and faded lips that weren’t dry nor battered. 

Unkempt clothes but seemingly a healthy, lively (muscled perhaps even Iketasos had to admit for they certainly saw the slopes of defined arms whilst he was tied up) body underneath it all. Perhaps he does not care for fickle outward presentations. Nyleein certainly does weigh a hefty amount if his gait caused the crumbled rock underneath him to crunch like candy in an eager child’s maw. Certainly it is within their best interest to not be on his malevolent side, the phantom next to him mused as they walked side by side (though his pace was a little slower). 

Iketasos leaned their fabricated head down to look at his shoes while the group was walking further away from the mice folk village. Worn but not falling apart and almost a twilight violet in color with intricate lacing. They flashed a smile to no being in particular. He gave no indication that he noticed such marvelings from their end. 

Nyleein is _enrapturing_ . Iketasos cannot conjure such thoughts up enough. Every offer of interest within the world’s lore or inhabitants had been indifferently rejected until _now_. Iketasos had reserved a temporary residency in Naeviroxis for a few moments of peace before aimlessly wandering around countless worlds again. Each place had seen Iketasos acting out a different role; however, the phantom enjoyed seeking pleasures whenever they could and with a reason whose “why” lacked an answer, they have discovered that there is a new pleasure, a new treasure to be had here in this mundane landscape of forgettable faces. Again they will play the role of a tempter and again they have found an anchor to keep themself in what was supposed to be an irrelevant location. 

  
  


With gloved hands, the Mesmer slowed down their pace to match his perfectly (mutually) and settled a leather palm on Nyleein’s firm shoulder. The next words flowed out smoothly in preparation for eroding away any possible unease.

“Would you mind some company tonight? Or the next several days, Nyleein?”

"I'm unsure. I'm a pretty busy man with a lot on my plate, but I may be able to make some time." His baritone rich words tumbled around the space between them as the ground became more untamed without a history of footsteps. Despite the careful words, Nyleein did maintain an aloof grin and casual slope of his shoulders as he walked with them. He did not seem to mind their touch either henceforth they gave him some slaps on the back out of camaraderie. 

“I’m sure I’ll be worth your time,” they responded enthusiastically and then looked at his hands that were both positioned on the muddy beige satchel around Nyleein’s torso. Although the phantom could not feel his hands, Iketasos guessed that they were dry and worn with dirt caked underneath the stubby fingernails; however, the left hand seemed less clean than the right. Minor, shallow scars of various healing stages were most prominent on both of the man’s pointer fingers. Nyleein likely worked with his hands often but be it with a blade or a tool. 

Nyleein only nodded in silence.

“Are you famished? We should all depart to the nearest eatery and dine.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:  _.☽ . _ :☆ﾟ. ───

  
  


Hours into the slumber of the mistress sun, in front of a wooden inn blessed by Autumn colors, Iketasos asked Nyleein to lend them his map so that the cartographer (it was long ago when they had picked up such a profession) could make a copy. He did not resist. 

All others had taken rest in the cozy, clean quarters of the inn after a filling dinner whilst Nyleein, Iketasos, and a drow groupmate, Xunala, were settled outside on the porch deck at a round table. A stranger he was to them, the man sat directly across from the groupates with one hand lazily perched under his chin. Never did the casual demeanor seep away and it seemed to have charmed everyone, including the Mesmer. 

The chatter between all three was worth a bronze coin however what the darkly stelliferous entity saw was worth hundreds of platinum coins. Gentle, guiding starlight fluttered around Nyleein’s features as he softly responded to the many questions Iketasos had for him (“Aren’t you tired? How do you travel? Are you alone?”). Nyleein’s idle cloudy hair parted slightly in the breeze to let starlight peek through and Iketasos moonwhite eyes saw that _his_ eyes were not there. There was but an empty flesh cavern where the orbs were supposed to be. 

Nyleein was blind. 

They did not believe it. 

Even so, the Mesmer was not without courtesy lest they wished to appear brash and rude -- no, they simply made no comment and continued their cartography work. The drow companion appeared to have noticed as well while mirroring Iketasos’ own actions in response. 

He was without sight. That would be a challenge in trying to lure him into Iketasos’ waters for eyes are portals to the soul and it is through the eyes that allures of seduction work the best. Nyleein would not be able to see their planned coy smiles or lavisciously curved body but nevertheless, the Mesmer was skilled. Relying on sight alone is a hindrance and Iketasos would simply play out more hums or coos (or even touches if the man were to allow such to catch his tempestuous attention) With a low, rich cadence like theirs, Iketasos felt as if he would not be able to resist their sirenic calls one way or another. Curiosity gets the best of everyone. Nyleein would not be an exception to this, they thought as they smeared the final stroke of ink to write the map’s name: _Naeviroxis._

This place would be where Iketasos is to dwell if they wish to crack open Nyleein. Let their words of wine be spilled into his ears to erode away that rugged exterior. With a smile, arcane energy flickered away from their fingers to dry the ink and soon after, the map was bundled up to be placed in Iketasos’ mirror (which Nyleein did not _see)._

By that time, the drow had left for elsewhere -- probably in pursuit of something more interesting -- and Iketasos had the pleasure of the man’s sole company. Nyleein had looked up then briefly (blink and one would miss it) as his table partner stood up before peering downward once more to pick at the hem of his ashy sleeves. “I’ve kept you up for too long, my good sir,” Iketasos murmured with a voice that dipped into something velvet and steady, “since the map has been finished, I shall leave you for the night? Unless… _you_ so greatly desire my company and wish to stay with me for longer?” 

The left hand hovered over the textured sleeve edge for a second before it disappeared underneath the table. Nyleein breathed out, “It’s okay, you can go. Have a good night.” 

As the phantom turned away, they realized that not once had Nyleein spoken their name. He had mentioned the syllables addressing the others but never once _“Iketasos.”_ And yet -- Iketasos had waltzed in conversation with him the most. Did he simply not enjoy this dancing partner? Were their movements too forward or misplaced? Iketasos knew not of what Nyleein’s preferences or intentions were but they knew that in the following days, so long as he was in their company, they strove to hear Nyleein spill every fine sound making up their name. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:  _.☽ . _ :☆ﾟ. ───

He did say their name during those days. 

Once. 

The group were burning rose-mimics as part of a contract deal with the local officials and Iketasos soon fell to the coarse dirt like a withered rose petal. As the others were further away (and were more occupied in slicing or blowing away the thick thorns of the mimics) from them than Nyleein, he rushed toward them as they collapsed. 

“ _Iketasos.”_ The entity with that name was surprised to hear such worry laced in with what Nyleein had just said (though it was faint) as they pushed themself up against the ground. Said -- that’s all that it was. Simple and clean but Iketasos could not dwell further on what felt off to them because he had propped them against his side, to move the phantom away from the combat. At this close distance, if only they could smell him to learn more about him because scents indicate more than one would suspect. An entity like Nyleein would either smell of trees and rainwater or arcane concoctions of allure. Both were telling of character. But alas, Iketasos lacked such an innate ability.

A quip almost left their illusionary lips in response to their ridiculous thoughts or his actions however they kept silent. It was better to taste silence in order to allow things to naturally percolate on their own and Iketasos did not want to spoil what was coming from the man next to them. 

Since Nyleein could not see where was a suitable place to halt, Iketasos mentioned a relatively flat tree stump a few steps to the left of them both. The stable coil of his arms (they were indeed defined) loosened as he allowed them to sit down. 

“Thank you. This happens all the time though,” Iketasos chirped once Nyleein had given them some space to recover. To bolster their words, the phantom just heartily patted their legs and laughed a bit. The man did not respond but they noticed he merely clenched his hands in response. They did not understand why he did that given the shallow nature of their bond -- perhaps Nyleein was merely reflecting on a past experience. Had someone he cared for been slayed recently? Did Iketasos remind him of anyone that he knew?

They would not ask him about this. 

Iketasos opened up their mirror portal to take out a crimson potion and splashed it on the rim of the frame. “Will you be gracing me with your lovely presence or will you be going off to fight with the others?” 

Nyleein turned his face slightly toward them before moving away. “I’ll stay. The others can manage.” 

The Mesmer was perfectly content sitting next to him for it gave them the brief moment to ponder what he would even be able to do amidst combat. Perhaps something magical. 

_Impatient but tired eyes landed on Iketasos as they asked for an audience with the arcane academy’s headmaster, Ailitherin. His secretary waited for proof of admission before entry but the group was clueless at what to offer._

_From unknown shadows, Nyleein slunk up to Iketasos with grace akin to candle fire. He tipped his face a few breaths away from the back of their illusionary head. Light as the touch of a wisp of smoke, his finger whispered a nudge against the phantom’s gloved palm. Experienced in this dance, Iketasos delicately and slowly uncurled their palm for him without looking at him (yet); Nyleein’s fingertips briefly met their own as he dipped an object in their hand._

_Feigning a sneeze, Iketasos turned their grey ash eyes to gaze at him (placid as ever was Nyleein’s expression) before glancing down at what was in their palm: a golden orbit pin whose dancers were multiple incandescent jeweled stars. They did not know he was still with them much less how the man knew of what they needed. With the swirling auras of magic in the air, the Mesmer could not tell whether he had conjured up the item with magic or something else._

_Regardless, this choreography was to end soon and he would leave -- he left. Like the last dying light of embers, Nyleein was gone. Ailitherin’s secretary appeared to not have noticed because the group was distracting her with various idle questions. The cosmic ghost turned around as part of the unspoken dance, hand rising to present the glimmering stellar object to the secretary. The last movement was finished and the group was accepted to meet Alitherin. Gone was Iketasos’ chance to bow with (thank) their partner._

Iketasos dug the worn heels of their boots into the ground after reflecting on the memory. The hollers and spoken cantations of their newly found group had died out therefore indicating the fight was over. Nyleein during that time had never turned his back toward them. 

“With someone as towering as you, you could brand a weapon and protect others, yes?”

In affirmation, Nyleein inched his head slightly toward them. “Yes, I can fight but you all are more than capable of protecting yourselves. If something goes wrong, then I may step in.” 

The shorter entity smiled before picking up a lone lilac and tossed it into the wind. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:  _.☽ . _ :☆ﾟ. ───

The curtains were going to come to a close with Nyleein’s performance. Word was spilled on Nyleein’s past: Headmaster Ailitherin was revealed to be his former adopted son and supposedly the stranger had a hand in everyone’s past. Bitter was the truth but especially on the tongue of the drow companion (Iketasos tasted nothing but interest). Nyleein began to depart at the deliverance before Xunala clenched back the grey sleeves, revealing ragged ebony marks of warbling text on the arm in hunt for some truths. 

The more one looked at the markings, the more they warped therefore rendering the text difficult to decipher. 

Rarely did any emotion aside from aloofness or placidity cross the white hair man’s face but there, something as hard as ice stone erupted across Nyleein’s features. Immediately he gripped the sleeves back. 

“What are _those?_ Who are you?” the drow screamed, distancing herself as far as possible from him. Struck with both curiosity and surprise, Iketasos made no moves. 

Ailitherin shook his head. “See? Do you not _see_? Those markings are made from broken deals with Euostraths. He forges these contracts but breaks them.” Gasps of horror and shock boiled up from the group. No reaction escaped the phantom. Xunala charged at Nyleein once more but he shrugged her off. 

“Answer me. What are you--”

Letting the words rocket off of his form, Nyleein simply walked away. 

One of the party folks, a davi named Samara, firmly held the drow back. “Stop, Xunala. Let him go.”

“What sort of contracts does he make? Do you know who he truly is?” asked Iketasos once Nyleein left the stage. For reasons unknown, the word of _fate_ surfaced in their mind. Fate was a joke of a concept to Iketasos but they had befriended Fate-benders before. Perhaps, if the man’s vague involvement in their past was a real thing, then maybe he knew of who they were or where they came from. Perhaps he had been involved in their fate of becoming a phantom. Far fetched was the thought but questions and answers are virtually costless when one has nothing to lose, ever. 

“I said already: contracts with Euostraths. He is just Nyleein, my former father. Anything else you want answers to you need to uncover on your own.” Ailitherin crossed his arms and stared at where Nyleein once stood. 

The Mesmer nodded then waltzed over to where Xunala was. “Nyleein gave you a cigar before this did he not? He is of foreign danger; if the cigar is to harm you or be lost in transit, then we might be losing a lot more than what’s necessary. Say, why don’t you hand over the item to me? I will keep it safe in my mirror portal.” They quirked their lips offering a hand to her in pursuit of the cigar. 

Without resistance, the drow handed over the cigar as if it were rubbish. It was a dull grey thing and wrapped in numerous layers of thin cloth or paper -- Iketasos was not sure. Nothing of note was on it but nevertheless, Iketasos would examine it later. _This_ was an item Nyleein had used before, or something akin at least. The group was moving out from the inn and needed quick transportation to which Nyleein then whispered something into his smoking pipe, causing a horse born of grey wisps to emerge. 

Yes, this cigar could be used to decipher more of who or what the man is. They who are phantasmagoric will hoard anything relating back to he who was the crown source of their curiosities. Iketasos rolled the gift in their hand before tossing it into their mirror. 

Perfect.

  
  
  



	2. Smoke and mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definition: the obscuring or embellishing of the truth of a situation with misleading or irrelevant information.

Even the ghost whose blood is made of apathy and feigned emotions, could still  _ feel  _ guilt at their lack of actions when Nyleein’s secret was revealed. They know how precious secrets are to keep oneself alive because for a charmer such as them, Iketasos knows the power in secrets especially those belonging to others; it's just simply that, they do not have any of their own. No loss but all gain.

If the phantom wanted to court Nyleein into giving them his good graces, then they should have done better to uphold his privacy. Iketasos is not one to dwell on the past nor cultivate remorse henceforth they’ve decided to craft their own second chance. 

As intended, Iketasos had investigated the man’s cigar for any traces of magic and the research results turned positive If their ideas were correct, then the cigar could be used to contact Nyleein even if it was he who was the messenger. A possibility was held in wasting the magic for a singular use but this smoking device was in  _ their  _ hands. Any consequences to be had with the item could be blamed on something else; Iketasos was not worried. 

With the grey smoking device, Iketasos endeavored to set things proper. They ungloved both of their hands to reveal nebulous claws to grind one of the claws on their thumb to conjure a flame of warm cream and maroon. The magical flame caught the lip of the cigar and it sighed pleasure with smoke. 

“Fetch Nyleein and tell him that I apologize. That I... shouldn't have just stood there, in silence." 

The smoke of grey wings grew a head and beak before a pure white finch was born. It blinked its shiny cobalt eyes as if processing the request and fluttered to the extended claw finger. Iketasos had seen Nyleein conjure beasts like a horse from his pipes before but never had they seen magic such as this. 

“Apologize?” Nyleein’s voice filtered through from the bird after several minutes. His cadence was thick and deep with no space left for insightful guesses as to what he may have felt. 

"Leaving you.. to be exposed like that. I shouldn't have let that happen. Some secrets aren’t meant to be shown and I reckon that was a major one for you…. I apologize.” 

“It is fine,” spoke the feathered messenger. 

Iketasos bobbled the finch with thinned lips. “If that is so… I don’t know the limitations of this cigar so that is all that I will be saying. Thank you for your time, Nyleein.” No words emanated from the small creature as it ascended into flight before vanishing into a puffy cloud and then, nothing. 

Timidness is not an outfit that fits the phantom but it is one that might have pulled some strings on Nyleein’s end. Iketasos shrugged to themself before turning around to sit in the rickety chair, hands folded at their chest. 

“I’ll try that again once more… for science.” 

  
  



	3. In the rain and fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to his movement, the white hair once more shielded his eyes therefore Iketasos could only see the stoic line of his lips as their hands collided upon contact. With his right hand palming their bare stellar knuckles, Nyleein placed the dying cigar in the phantom’s hand. The flicking amber end of the item sparked brightly for just a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50% of the writing here belongs to Danny. I just edited a lot of stuff to make it more cohesive to both the fic's Iketasos POV and my own writing style

Time is a social construct and it was only made more meaningless to someone who essentially had forever on their hands. Iketasos could not care to count how much time had passed but it had been a _while_ since they contacted Nyleein with his cigar or otherwise. The crew made a quick pit stop at midnight in a local village as the weather started to throw a fit of temper. With everyone in their own private room at a decrepit, leaking inn, Iketasos freely faced the fireplace. Ghastly space did not need slumber so they had plenty of time to contact the man of their curiosities. In seconds near, they conjured a flame in the wood and reached into their mirror to pull out the cigar. 

Iketasos quickly embraced a human form of burned nebulous skin and dying starlight eyes. Appearance always matters even if a guest appeared to be blind. 

The smoke thickly flowed from the cigar like a waterfall, bearing a heavy weight despite the lofty appearance and it pooled at the phantom’s feet. Moments passed before the wispy clouds came together to form a familiar little white finch. The bird stood on the ground for a moment and looked around the room. It was almost as if it was ignoring Iketasos despite them being the one to summon it.

"I didn't expect you to use it again so soon." The finch spoke in a deep voice, suddenly turning its light blue gaze towards the phantom.

“ _I_ didn’t expect so either but we had a delay and alas..I am not the kind to need rest,” Iketasos shrugged with a wink. “Are you occupied? We could,” they paused “hold this later, if you are.”

The finch turned to look around the room once more. It wasn't well furnished and just breathing funny would make the floor cry out to where not even a mouse could scurry around stealthily. This finch was no different. It hopped around for a moment, the wooden floor creaking with every light landing. The little bird flew into a chair and got comfortable. A few seconds of silence passed with only the fireplace providing background noise.

"Yes, from what I've seen sleep isn't something that you need to take part in. Which to me is a bit unfortunate." As Nyleein's voice escaped the tiny finch, it began to morph. The smoke bled from the cigar like a shooting star streaking across the sky with the finch being the object of delight. The star-smoke finch slowly flickered to grow in size until a supernova birthed Nyleein. He looked real, but the trail of smoke still flowing towards him said otherwise.

Iketasos amusingly looked at the finch as it surveyed the room but as the bird transformed, they merely blinked in surprise. His magic is more advanced than the phantom had suspected. Interesting. 

"It's nice and things are calm. I wouldn't mind chatting for a bit,” he murmured with a smile. Nyleein decided to get comfortable or at least seem like he was by lifting his leg and placing it on one knee. 

“That’s one way to do it. I was assuming you were going to be opting Nylee- _out_ instead of being Nylee- _in_ on this whole conversation thing. And me not sleeping? You make it sound as if its a horror to not experience,” Iketasos teased. 

Although there was great rumbling occurring outside, the rumble of Nyleein’s laughter was an unparalleled calming sort of thing. Iketasos found it to be a pleasure to hear. He leaned forward a bit to rest his elbow on his leg, followed by his chin in his hand. A small smile remained on his features as he listened to all the other had to say.

"First the eye-glasses then the puns. I'm beginning to think you're the funny one of the group, but I don't want to cause any conflict in the group by giving you that title." The man paused for a moment and tilted his head as if he was confused. "I used it more as an expression, but I guess you can say that. Being awake for twenty-four hours a day doesn't sound pleasant. You mind never gets to rest...it never gets to just run off and dream without being pulled back to reality. It's very unfortunate. I bet the dreams you'd have would be something to write about."

“They can fight me all they want for this title-- I’ve worked hard for it. But who’s to say I’ll even tell them the esteemed Nyleein has named me as such?” Their voice settled in with playfulness. “I can’t remember the last time I even slept or dreamt besides, the closest things I have to dreams are just sudden memories from my past but those are rather rare… Seems like you enjoy your sleep, however?”

The floorboards moaned in pain as the phantom moved closer to their guest, leaning against the table that accompanied his seat. Bare was the surface therefore they sat on it. Nyleein followed the sound of their movements with his face until they were finished, so that his cheek now rested in his hand. Even with dark vision, Iketasos could not tell if he could truly see them. 

"There is magic that could help you sleep and dream if you're really interested. I admire your attempt, but remembering something isn't exactly the type of dreaming I'm talking about. I mean seeing something that not even this crazy plane of existence could offer you. I enjoy my sleep because it gives me time to recover from how cruel the world can be, but I guess that can be viewed as a childish thought process. Anyway, you say that as if my words are set in stone. You better watch yourself or your party members may steal the title I've just given you." He let out a little noise of amusement at the thought. Nyleein scratched his neck with his spare hand before a small sigh escaped him as he leaned back in the chair -- the creaking sound was back, but he ignored it.

“Saying another being could steal my title -- That makes it seem as if you expect to return to us on our adventures. Even if briefly.” With hands ungloved, the phantom pressed against the dilapidated wood, feeling the worn lines of age and mold. “Well I suppose that isn’t... a wild thought. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask you to tag along, it would be _me_.” 

And if there’s going to be anyone who will fall under your good graces first, it _will be me_ , Iketasos asserted in their mind. 

"Ah...maybe one day. For right now I don't think Samara is very fond of me nor Xunala. They both have the right to be upset; I knew it would happen when we went to see Ailitherin."

“That’s fine. Whenever you can is appreciated and I- we do have a way of contacting you.”

A hum left the elder’s lips. “I didn't think the first person you'd use it on was me. The only reason it returns to its previous form is because I don't want you to have to waste a gift on me. I figured your group mates would use it to contact a...someone other than myself." The lightning appeared before the thunder. There was no reaction for Nyleein, but it lit up his face. It was slight, but Iketasos could see through his hair where his sockets’ eyes were half-lidded as if he was staring at the ground.

"And to ask me along is a big task that you all just took on bravely. Though I guess part of that is because you didn't know _who_ I am...and you all are a very curious group."

Somewhere in the middle of his words, Iketasos ceased to give those sounds their full attention as they opted to focus on his appearance instead. Wild and unkept but Nyleein is nothing short of handsome. If he were to tailor himself better, the elder could surely become a pretty sight. A huff of amusement left their lips. Quite the barrier to get through first, if anyone were to be enthralled by Nyleein’s looks and desired a friendship (or something more) with him. And those eyes... what would they look like?

Finicky. They tapped the wooden surface. Now, what had Nyleein said?

“I don’t know my group mates very well and their lives appear many times more short than mine. Us beings are all frail in the grand scheme of things. I’ve neared death twice in my journeys with them. I wouldn’t be surprised if I couldn’t last much longer, with what has been happening.”

Outside, the thunder growled in hunger making a parallel with Iketasos’ desire to pick apart Nyleein’s being, like a child with a new toy. “I suppose I - should we know who you are?”

"I think I was there for one of them. It's very unfortunate. Since you are a caster you should probably try to stay away from the front lines. Saida should try to stay towards...ah, not really my place." He took a breath and looked away from the ground as the thunder screamed in warning. "Hm...you'll find out at some point -- who I am. It's not something for me to tell. Something’s should just be found out just like how your party members don't tell you their whole life story in a day." He paused for just a moment to gather himself. 

"Though you may not find it childish to desire dreaming...after so long I think I do. Anyways, I'm sure this isn't what you called me here for."

The phantom lifted a finger to his hair but all that happened was the swirling of smoke around their hand. Nyleein made no reaction. “I’ve been thinking about when we first met: why did you act so.. happy when we came in? You know all these folks around the world and you deliver messages as your job. Last we mentioned of friends you spoke of only one being and you didn’t seem so fond of her. Don’t you long for companionship — genuine fun companionship sometimes?”

Nyleein brought his hand to his face and rubbed it. The moon seemed to have been gracious as she uncovered a glimpse at his buried smirk. By this point, Iketasos had cataloged many of his expressions and this one appeared to be amusement. 

"Why was I happy? Well, it was nice to see I wasn't the only foolish person to be captured by mice. Having company that isn't angry about your existence is something to smile about, wouldn't you agree?" 

He moved his hand from his face and uncovered the smile he was hiding to make a little gesture with his hand. The smile faded with the thoughtful expression and he stayed quiet for a while. 

Unsure of whether the magic was still active, Iketasos spoke up, “are you open to having some more friends? People who you will enjoy spending time with and want to get to know better, purely because you find them pleasant company.” 

"Well...hm. There are reasons that I say she is my only 'companion'. She is the only one that has stuck with me through all that has happened. I don't think either of us is fond of the other, but...she is the only one that is still around." His expression was serious but it rippled into something different as Nyleein scrunched his eyebrows. The man’s voice had edged into something softer, much like the weather outside. "Why do you ask exactly? Are you looking into becoming a companion of _mine_? Or rather a friend? I would think that you wouldn't want to since I haven't really proven myself to be trustworthy."

“If I wasn’t interested in being a companion of yours do you think we would be here right now?,” they cooed whilst flirting internally with the thought of being friends with him. Oh, it will happen; the Mesmer knows of their abilities, and eventually no matter how long it would take, Iketasos will draw him into their orbit. 

“Besides, you may not have proven to be trustworthy but that won’t stop me. I like a dash of mystery and danger: both of which you seem to offer _generously_. You seem interesting enough too and if you happen to be out for my life then I can at least say I had a nice time.”

Nyleein shrugged a bit, a sly grin gracing his features. This was progress. The younger found that they want to see such a lovely expression on his features more -- something akin to joy or amusement that makes individuals easier to work with (to mold, to _bend)._ With delight, Iketasos spoke,“having interesting peers who are.. seemingly almighty is always an enjoyable way to quicken the pace of the days. People like that usually have bizarre things happening to them.”

"Well well...and here I thought you would be a bit more cautious on who you wanted to call a friend. I can't believe how wrong I was. I am just as 'mysterious' as I am dangerous. At any moment, just as Ailitherin said, I might...turn on you!" The conjured entity quickly turned and swiped his hand through Iketasos torso. It...did absolutely nothing, since his body was made of smoke. If anything it was just a bad joke. Iketasos was not phased. That was an endearing attempt to strike fear in their non-existent heart. 

Immediately after, Nyleein pushed himself out of the chair and hurried over to the cigar which was a few feet away from them both. "I'm far from 'almighty'. Maybe try looking into a Euostrath if you want _that_ kind of relationship." 

“Not interested in having that much power right now. Just seeking information but if the moment arises for power...If you turn on me then I can only blame myself. I’ve never met someone like you and I find it’ll be a worthwhile thing to be your companion. If you permit of course and if you don’t murder me first, sweetheart.” 

He turned his back as they murmured the word power but straightened his spine at the spilling of a pet name. "Well that's unfortunate. It seems I'm odd to most, but even so I like to have my own fun when I can,” Nyleein said as he bent down to pick up the cigar and rolled it between the fingers of his right hand. Iketasos frowned in curiosity at the sight.

“Hmm, I may depending on you if you do something that threatens me, but I doubt you could come within a thousand years of what that could be. So...for now...I may not murder you. Though it's not much of a murder if you're asking me to do it." 

With vulpine grace, the younger eased themself off the table to tread over to Nyleein, facing him illusionary eye to... eye socket. Iketasos folded their arms back as they tilted their head forward to carefully brand his facial features into their mind for later, if they ever needed to use his form as a veneer again.

“To be frank, you and the Eurostraths are what’s keeping me grounded in this place.” Iketasos remarked, with thoughts forming to declare how this man before them was going to be _important_. 

"The Euostraths and I? That's a very interesting job you're giving to me as well as those who aren't even here. I don't think they care much for those who don't devote their lives to them. Well I guess there are those rare _few_." 

He took a little side step. Iketasos mirrored his action. 

"Tell me...how exactly am I keeping you grounded. Is it because you think I hold some very important information that you desperately want?"

Iketasos folded their arms together at the last question. “No, like I’ve said, you are _fascinating_ to me. How often does a being see a blind man who uses smoke magic and has strange worded tattoos all over him? I just want to get to know you better. Everything from your tastes in cakes to how you best wish to hear words of consolidation. I understand why you would feel cautious about that though. Watch my every physical move if you must. I am but bare for you, hmm?”

"I'm sure it's not often since I can assure you that I am one of a kind. Because of that it's highly unlikely that anything you can even think of would be a threat. Even if someone tricked you into driving a knife into me I still wouldn't see you as a threat." Nyleein’s baritone voice was even more tender now, like words would be too harsh in hearing at this very moment. Despite the immateriality of his form, his grey billowing hands solidified into something sure, something definite. Reliable. Nyleein reached out for their hand in a slow manner and Iketasos reached out for him back, halfway through. 

Due to his movement, the white hair once more shielded his eyes therefore Iketasos could only see the stoic line of his lips as their hands collided upon contact. With his right hand palming their bare stellar knuckles, Nyleein placed the dying cigar in the phantom’s hand. The flicking amber end of the item sparked brightly for just a second. 

"After you learn more about me...then decide if you want to be my friend,” Nyleein whispered, “I wouldn't just have that kind of connection just because you think I'm interesting. There's quite a bit that I will most likely never tell you myself...for many reasons. So...I'm sorry, but I guess you're going to have to be highly intrusive. Until then...farewell, Iketasos." He freed himself from the touch of their hands, causing his wispy grey self to pool into the cigar. 

In unison, the falling droplets of water and smoke faded into lonely silence.

  
  



End file.
